The Donkey’s Tail | Ep. 285

An old Persian proverb says: “Thinking well is wise. Planning well, wiser. But doing well is the wisest and best of all.”

In other words: thinking, planning, and coming up with ideas is smart. But smartest of all is putting our ideas into action. And we’re about to meet a man who puts his plans into action in a very wise and witty way!

Our story is called “The Donkey’s Tail.” You’ll find versions of this story from North Africa and the Middle East, where it’s one of many tales featuring a wise trickster you’ve met in several other Circle Round stories, including “The Unwelcome Guest,” “The Fire Within” and “The Sharpest Tack”: Nasruddin!

Voices in this episode include Amy Brentano, Terrance LaMonte, Jr., Erika Rose, and Syrian-American rapper and poet Omar Offendum.

Omar Offendum has performed all over the world, from the Ford Amphitheater in Los Angeles, California to the FIFA World Cup festivities in Doha, Qatar. His critically-acclaimed off-Broadway hit "Little Syria" explores what life was like in our nation's first Arab-American neighborhood, by bridging live music and hip-hop with storytelling traditions from Damascus.

This episode was adapted for Circle Round by Rebecca Sheir. It was edited by Dean Russell. Original music and sound design is by Eric Shimelonis. Our artist is Sabina Hahn.

GROWN-UPS! PRINT THIS so everyone can color while listening. We’re also keeping an album so please share your picture on Facebook and Instagram, and tag it with #CircleRoundPodcast. To access all the coloring pages for past episodes click HERE. Our resident artist is Sabina Hahn and you can learn more about her HERE.

Now it’s your turn!

Use your imagination to dream up the most amazing pair of shoes you can think of.

What would your shoes look like? What would they be made out of? What colors would they be? Would they have special powers, like wings to make you fly or skis to help you glide on water?

Find some paper and draw a picture of your shoes, then share your picture with someone you love. And if you’d like, share it with us!

Ask a grown-up to snap a photo of you and your drawing and email it to circleround@wbur.org. With your permission, we may feature you in “The Lion’s Roar,” the monthly newsletter of the Circle Round Club. Sign up for this super-fun super-fan opportunity here!

Musical Spotlight: Kemenche / Kemençe

Kemenche (kemençe in Turkish, کمانچه in Persian) refers to several types of stringed bowed musical instruments originating in the Eastern Mediterranean, specifically Armenia, Azerbaijan, Greece, Iran and Turkey, as well as regions bordering the Black Sea.

A kemenche is usually carved from a single piece of wood, with a pear-, bowl- or bottle-shaped body, an elliptical head and a neck. The name kemenche derives from the Persian word kamancheh, meaning "little bow.” And indeed: three strings running along the neck are played with a short bow strung with horsehair.

Until 1920, most kemenche strings were made of silk. Silk strings produce a beautiful sound; however, given silk’s relative weakness, the silk strings were eventually replaced by gut, then metal.

Story Transcript:

NARRATOR: One sunny morning in fall, Nasruddin was outside doing chores. He mowed his lawn. He fed his donkey. He was kneeling in his herb garden, filling a basket with fresh-picked mint, when he heard a distressed voice.

HODA: Nasruddin! I need your help!

NARRATOR: Nasruddin glanced up and there was Hoda, the new art teacher at the local school. Her eyes were teary, her lower lip was trembling, and her feet… were bare!

NASRUDDIN: Hoda! What’s the problem? And why are you in bare feet?

HODA: Oh Nasruddin! My bare feet ARE the problem! (beat) My shoes are GONE! I think they were stolen!

NASRUDDIN: Stolen?

HODA: Yes! Last night, the headmaster invited all the teachers to dinner, to celebrate our first week of class. I was more than happy to attend. After all, as the newest teacher, I’ve been hoping to get to know my colleagues better.

NASRUDDIN: Of course! It was generous of the headmaster to host such a gathering.

HODA: Right? And I was so excited about it that I put on my new dress and my new leather shoes. They’re hand-painted – I decorated them myself – and they looked so great!

NASRUDDIN: I’m sure they did! I’ve heard you’re quite the artist!

HODA: Thank you! (beat) Well, when I arrived at the headmaster’s house, I simply HAD to show my shoes to everyone. Then I slipped them off and left them outside the door.

NASRUDDIN: Indeed. It IS customary to remove one’s shoes when one pays a visit. What happened next?

HODA: Well, we spent the next hours eating and drinking and talking. Then one by one, the other teachers went home. I was having such a lovely time, I was the last to leave. And when I looked outside the door, my shoes were missing! I looked everywhere, but I could find neither hide nor hair of them!

NARRATOR: Nasruddin raised an eyebrow.

NASRUDDIN: Hoda. I am deeply sorry to hear your story. It appears that one of your new colleagues has swindled you. (beat) Tell me. Who else was at this dinner?

HODA: Well… the headmaster, of course… and the math teacher… the history teacher, the science teacher… and the composition teacher.

NASRUDDIN: Ah, composition! That was always my favorite class! Putting ideas together to write a good essay or story… I just loved it. (beat) I enjoyed art as well… until one teacher told me my picture was so bad, he wondered how I could even draw a breath!

HODA: That’s terrible!

NASRUDDIN: And yet admittedly clever. (beat) But enough about me. You were saying five other people were at this dinner?

HODA: Yes! And I’m still getting to know them all. I couldn’t even guess which one of them would stoop so low.

NARRATOR: Nasruddin was quiet for a moment. Then he put down his basket of mint and looked the art teacher in the eye.

NASRUDDIN: Listen, Hoda. You deserve to get your shoes back, and I am going to help you. I shall invite your colleagues to my house this afternoon and put them through a test. By the time the sun sets, the truth will be revealed… and your feet will be covered!

NARRATOR: A few hours later, Hoda was back in Nasruddin’s yard. She was joined by the headmaster and her fellow teachers.

NASRUDDIN: Greetings, everyone. I appreciate you coming to see me, though I wish the circumstances were more pleasant. You see, when all of you gathered at the headmaster’s house last night, one of you made off with Hoda’s hand-painted shoes!

NARRATOR: Nasruddin searched the suspects’ faces, hoping to spy a glimmer of fear or remorse. All he saw was surprise.

NASRUDDIN: It appears this news has caught you off guard! Yet I am certain ONE of you is guilty. (beat) So! If you are the thief who deprived this new teacher of her beautiful, hand-painted shoes, confess now and you will be forgiven.

NARRATOR: Nasruddin folded his arms and waited. No one spoke up.

NASRUDDIN: Come on, people! Cat got your tongue? I said, if you are the thief, confess your crime now and you shall be forgiven.

NARRATOR: Again, Nasruddin waited. Again, no one answered.

NASRUDDIN: Very well then! Since none of you will cop to this crime, I’ll have to coax it out of you another way. (beat) See that stable over there?

NARRATOR: He pointed at a little wooden building in the back of his yard.

NASRUDDIN: That stable is where Delilah lives. She’s my donkey. I’ve had her for years and years. And with Delilah’s able assistance, I shall reveal the culprit!

NARRATOR: The suspects looked confused. Hoda looked cross.

HODA: (irritated) Nasruddin! I’ve heard you're known for your clever ways. But a donkey? How could a beast of burden possibly help you find a thief?

NASRUDDIN: Delilah technically may be a beast of burden. But she’s also a beast of brilliance! As you are about to witness.

NARRATOR: Nasruddin fixed the suspects with a stare.

NASRUDDIN: Ladies and gentlemen. We are going to do a little test. One by one, I want each of you to step inside the stable. Close the door behind you. Then, very gently, I want you to take hold of the tufted end of Delilah’s tail… and give it a tug.

NARRATOR: The suspects looked even more confused… and Hoda looked even more cross.

HODA: Nasruddin! Where are you going with this…????

NASRUDDIN: Trust me, Hoda. I know what I'm doing. And so does Delilah! (beat) You see, if her tail is tugged by a person who is innocent of this crime, she will stay quiet. She’ll just stand there, peacefully munching her oats and straw.

HODA: And if her tail is tugged by the person who’s guilty…?

NASRUDDIN: Easy! She’ll open her mouth, throw back her head, and BRAY! So loudly that all of us in this yard – nay, all of us in this CITY – will know who the culprit is. (beat) So! Let’s begin, shall we? How about you kick things off, mister headmaster?

HEADMASTER: It would be my pleasure.

NARRATOR: The headmaster threw back his shoulders and marched to the stable. He opened the door….

He closed it behind him…

And when he emerged moments later…

…Delilah remained silent.

HEADMASTER: Well! Looks like I’m innocent!

NARRATOR: The math teacher went next. She opened the door…

…she closed it…

… and when she came out again…?

MATH TEACHER: Looks like I’m innocent, too!

NARRATOR: The same thing happened with the history teacher…

HISTORY TEACHER: Guess I didn’t do it!

NARRATOR: …the science teacher…

SCIENCE TEACHER: I didn’t do it, either!

NARRATOR: …AND the composition teacher!

COMPOSITION TEACHER: And  I didn’t do it, either!

NARRATOR: Hoda fixed Nasruddin with angry, piercing eyes.

HODA: Nasruddin! Delilah didn’t bray once! Even though all my colleagues went inside and tugged her tail! (pouty) I guess your little test didn’t work.

NASRUDDIN: On the contrary, Hoda! It isn't that my “little test didn't work.” It’s that my “little test” has only just begun! (beat) (dramatic) And if all goes well, trust me: we are going to sniff out the culprit!!!!

NARRATOR: What will Nasruddin do next?

What would you do if you were in the wise man’s shoes?

We’ll find out what happens, after a quick break.

[BREAK]

NARRATOR: Welcome back to Circle Round. I’m Rebecca Sheir. Today our story is called “The Donkey’s Tail.”

Before the break, the headmaster threw a dinner party for all the teachers at his school - including the new art instructor, Hoda. But when it was time to leave, she discovered her hand-painted shoes had been stolen!

Nasruddin wanted to find out which party guest made off with the shoes. So he invited the headmaster and teachers to his yard, then told them to enter his stable one by one and tug the tail of his donkey, Delilah. He assured them that when the thief pulled her tail, the donkey would bray.

And yet… she never made a peep.

NASRUDDIN: Ladies and gentlemen. You just experienced the first part of my test. We shall now move to the SECOND. (beat) I shall stand right here in this spot. One by one, I want you to approach me. Once you draw close enough, I want you to reach out both of your hands… and rub my nose.

NARRATOR: Hoda let out a groan.

HODA: Uggggh! I'm sorry, Nasruddin. But how is that going to help?

NASRUDDIN: Hoda. I understand your frustration. But I promised I would sniff out the culprit, and I will. (beat) So! Mister headmaster? Shall we begin with you?

HEADMASTER: I suppose…

NARRATOR: The headmaster stepped up… stuck out his hands… and rubbed Nasruddin’s nose.

NASRUDDIN: Goodness, your hands are cold! …And yet oddly refreshing!

NARRATOR: The math teacher went next.

NASRUDDIN: Goodness, your hands are hot! …And yet oddly comforting! 

NARRATOR: Then the history teacher…

NASRUDDIN: Do you mind scratching to the right a little? I have the most annoying itch!

NARRATOR: Then the science teacher....

NASRUDDIN: Do you mind scratching to the left?

NARRATOR: Then the composition teacher.

NASRUDDIN: Do you mind scratching all over? (beat) Ahh! Perfect!

NARRATOR: After each suspect had taken their turn, Hoda knotted her brow in frustration.

HODA: Nasruddin! For the life of me, I cannot see how this second test is any better than the first!

NASRUDDIN: You have every right to be skeptical, Hoda. My methods are rather unconventional. But they're also rather effective. Because the rascal who stole your shoes… is standing RIGHT THERE!

NARRATOR: Nasruddin pointed an accusing finger… at the composition teacher.

NASRUDDIN: YOU, madam! YOU are the one who made off with Hoda’s shoes!

NARRATOR: The teacher’s eyes grew wide.

COMPOSITION TEACHER: ME???? How could I be a thief? I teach valuable writing skills to the next generation! I hold their futures in my hands!

NASRUDDIN: You ALSO hold proof of your guilt in your hands!

COMPOSITION TEACHER: What???

NASRUDDIN: Allow me to explain.

NARRATOR: Nasruddin motioned toward his herb garden.

NASRUDDIN: Among the plants I grow in my garden is a particularly fragrant variety of mint. Before everyone came over this afternoon, I picked some of that mint and smeared it all over my donkey’s tail. When Hoda’s colleagues rubbed my nose, I could smell the aroma of mint on their hands. But when YOU did the same…

NARRATOR: He shot the composition teacher a glare.

NASRUDDIN: …all I could smell was the stench… of GUILT. Because unlike everyone else, who actually tugged Delilah’s tail… you didn’t touch it, because you knew you were guilty, and you feared Delilah would rat you out! (beat) Clearly, at some point during the dinner party you snuck out and stole Hoda’s shoes. So go home, bring back the shoes, and give them to Hoda. Along with a much-needed apology.

NARRATOR: The composition teacher hung her head and trudged home to fetch the shoes. Hoda flashed Nasruddin a grin.

HODA: You did it, Nasruddin! You figured out who stole my shoes! It was the composition teacher!

HEADMASTER: The FORMER composition teacher, you mean!

NARRATOR: The headmaster sighed and shook his head.

HEADMASTER: After what that woman has done, I am letting her go and sending her packing. Hopefully I can find someone honest to replace her, and teach the students how to put ideas together to write a good essay or story. …Might you know anyone?

NARRATOR: A sly twinkle came to Hoda's eye.

HODA: Actually, I believe I do know someone, Mister Headmaster. You see, when it comes to putting great ideas together…?

NARRATOR: She threw an arm around Nasruddin.

HODA: …this guy wrote the book!!!!

NARRATOR: And so it was that Nasruddin added another job to his resume. Donkey keeper. Garden grower. Mystery solver. And… composition teacher.

So now, the wise and witty man could be a true “writer”… of wrongs.